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After her experience with Exingham, it should have frightened her. She wasn’t married to Griffin; she had no claim to the man. If, by some miracle of coincidence, this ended with her pregnant, she should be horrified.

But…she wasn’t.

Because Griffin had stayed with her. He’d spent inside her, he’d given part of himself to her.

And that had been the real miracle.

He stirred, and as he did, his softened cock slipped from her lubricated opening. Goodness, they’d certainly made a mess, hadn’t they?

Before she could consider that, Griffin was straightening, forcing her upright again. His hand still cupped her cheek possessively, the pad of his thumb brushing back and forth against her damp skin. She’d cried, hadn’t she?

Well, who could blame her? That had been stunning.

The freedom he’d given her, the control…she never imagined having sex could be like that. No, no: making love.

Because that? That had most certainly been making love.

Griffin said nothing, just stared into her eyes, his expression unreadable. She waited for him to frown, growl, and wondered if she should be the one to break the silence. But she didn’t.

And after a long moment, he exhaled—was that a sigh?—and dropped his hand from her cheek.

By the time she realized his intent, his arm was already under one of her knees, and she tried to help him by standing up, but instead of allowing it, he twisted and scooped up her other leg as well. She barely had time to suck in a breath before she was lifted into the air, instinctively throwing her arms around his shoulders to hold herself in place.

“Griffin?” she managed to squeak as he strode toward the door to the bathing chamber.

He didn’t answer, but in a moment had settled her on the ledge of the large bathtub, and was now fiddling with the faucets. When he was satisfied with the temperature of the water filling the tub, he stepped back to her side and gestured for her to stand.

Bemused, Felicity did, and he went to work on the hooks on her skirt.

“Griffin. I can undress myself.”

Without looking up, he muttered, “Ye can likely wash yerself too. I’m still going to do it, though.”

Oh.

When he untied her petticoat, it and the skirt fell around her feet. He gestured to her to lift her arms. Instead, she shook her head and grabbed the hem of her chemise. “I can do it.”

It was really quite liberating to pull the chemise over her head so boldly, but he’d dropped to one knee to remove her stockings and shoes, and hadn’t noticed. But then he was upright once more, pulling down her drawers in an efficient manner, and lifting her.

And Felicity was trying her hardest not to be embarrassed, but it was hard. She burrowed her face in his shoulder and hoped she wasn’t leaking awkwardly from between her thighs.

If she was, it was his fault, anyway.

“Ye ken, ye’re going to have to look at me sometime.” Griffin sounded amused. “I had nae idea ye were so shy.”

“I am not shy,” she mumbled against his skin. “I am just…uncertain. I do not like being uncertain.”

“Aye, I figured that out about ye. It’s why ye wanted to experiment with me, aye?” He shifted, bouncing her a little so she was higher in his arms. “But there’s nothing to be uncertain about, Flick. Just relax and let me take care of ye, aright?”

Relax? Impossible.

“I really do not need you to—” The rest of her objection was cut off as he suddenly stepped forward and lowered her into the water.

The heat caused her to yelp as her bottom was submerged, but the sound turned to a sigh as he propped her against the back of the tub with the water surrounding her tense muscles. “Oh, that is nice.”

Chuckling, Griffin stepped back and began to unbutton his waistcoat.

Since the steam from the tub had likely already pinkened her skin, Felicity didn’t see any harm in watching him undress. Goodness, here she was completely naked, and the man was fully dressed, except for his shoes.